A Granger Christmas
by schemester
Summary: Ron goes with Hermione to her parents' house to meet Mr. and Mrs. Granger for Christmas.


**Disclaimer:** Ron, Hermione, and all of _Harry Potter_ belongs to J.K. Rowling. This story is intended for entertainment, not profit.

**Author's Note:** First and foremost, this is a Christmas gift for x_hannahbee at the Ravenclaw House HiH community on Livejournal. Reviews are appreciated from anyone, though!

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"You know, I really don't see why we have to do this, Hermione," Ron whinged as he walked beside the brown-haired woman.

Hermione stopped where she was on the sidewalk and Ron made to back away, frightened she might hex him. He knew she wouldn't do anything horrible, but it scared him all the same. His girlfriend truly was the brightest witch of their age, and there was something utterly fearsome about that. Even _if_ Minister Shacklebolt had personally asked him to become an Auror right after the Battle of Hogwarts a year prior.

Instead of pulling out her wand, though, Hermione took both of her hands and gripped Ronald Weasley's shoulders as tightly as she could. "Ronald," she growled, "you have said that at least twenty times since I first mentioned this. And what have I always said in return?"

Ron kept his eyes away from her and mumbled something unintelligible.

"Speak louder, Ron, and look at me when you say it."

"You, er, you've said, 'Are you really afraid of meeting Muggles,'" he said, looking at Hermione with an embarrassed face.

"Honestly, Ron," Hermione said, "I know it's different for you. I met your mum and dad when we were just friends. But I promise you, they'll love you. They'll love us."

The red-haired man couldn't help but smile at that, the way she said, "Us." It was truly magical, and that was something to say in a world where magic lay at the tip of one's wand.

"Let's go, then," she said, quickly kissing him on the cheek before dragging him along with her by hand.

Ten minutes later, Ron and Hermione stood at the gate that would lead them into the Granger's yard, the house decorated in colorful Christmas lights. Ron swallowed deeply and turned to Hermione. "You know, I really do wish that we could have just Apparated here. Would have been less time for me to built up all this worry," he sheepishly grinned. He knew he needed to be honest with Hermione—she really did care, now that both of their feelings were out in the open.

"It would have been easier; I know that, Ronald," she murmured, cupping one of his cheeks with the palm of her hand, "but I think it's time for some that Gryffindor bravery to come out. Remember, they'll love us. I have no doubt about that, and I am the one who has known them for twenty years."

"Yeah, but you probably only remember fifteen of those years..." Ron sarcastically remarked. Hermione just smiled playfully at him and opened the gate.

Once at the door, Hermione rang the bell two short times and then one drawn out ring. "It's my special 'knock' for them; they'll know it's me." In answer, Ron gripped her hand in his and squeezed tightly. She did so back, whispering, "And that's my code to you. One that says we're going to get through this; they will absolutely adore you, Ronald."

At that exact point in time, Mr. Granger opened his front door.

"Hermione, welcome, welcome—And a Merry Christmas! And you must be Mr. Ronald Weasley, I presume?" he genially asked, gesturing them inside the home.

"Oh, er, y-yes, sir," Ron stammered, nervously looking at Mr. Granger. Which truly was a feat in itself, as Ron stood a good five inches taller than Hermione's father.

"Well then, jolly good to meet you, Ronald, and Seasons Greetings to you as well!" Mr. Granger said, holding out a hand for Ron to shake.

"You can call him 'Ron,' Dad, I doubt he will mind. Will you, Ronald?" Hermione asked, looking up at her boyfriend.

"Uh, no—I won't mind at all. One less syllable, eh?" he chuckled as he shook Mr. Granger's hand, starting to feel a bit more at "home." No one called him "Ronald" unless in frustration or anger...or love, but that was only from his 'Mione.

"Right you are, Ron, right you are," Mr. Granger said as he clapped the red-haired man on the shoulder. "Now, how about you meet my lovely wife, Ron?"

"Oh now, _dear_! You don't have to flatter me so!" came the voice of Mrs. Granger from the kitchen. "I can't quite leave the roast to itself at the moment, so pardon me for not coming to the front door!"

Hermione took Ron by the hand and led him into the kitchen, where he met the woman that Hermione took most of her looks from. Mrs. Granger looked up from her cooking for a moment and went to embrace Ron.

"Hermione's told me all about you, Ron," she quietly said into Ron's ear.

Ron stepped back for a moment, looked from Hermione to Mrs. Granger, and said, "What? What'd she say?"

"Oh, don't worry so much, Ronald! They were all about your good attributes over shining your shortcomings. Come on, nothing bad at all! Honest! Right, Mum?" Hermione asked, an arm around the youngest Weasley male.

"Well...everything except the state of your sweet-snacking, Ronald! I must go ahead and give you one of your gifts, Mr. Weasley!" Mrs. Granger tut-tutted, walking over to a drawer by the sink. She produced a long, skinny wrapped package and handed it to Ron.

Ron glanced over at Hermione, a quizzical look upon his face, but Hermione just smiled. She felt that she knew what was in the package, but she couldn't do anything about her parents' fascination.

He carefully unwrapped the package while Hermione scoffed at how he was acting. At the Burrow, he always attacked his presents like a rabid boar. So much for a completely accurate first impression!

Once the last bit of paper fell to the counter, Ron found himself staring at a high-powered electrical toothbrush along with a bottle of some of the best toothpaste and floss.

"Uh...thanks," Ron commented, trying to comprehend what exactly the objects were.

Hermione heaved a sighed and grabbed the brush. "This is an electrical toothbrush, Ronald. You plug it into a socket, turn it on, and you have a toothbrush you can just glide across your teeth to get rid of the plaque and whatnot. You put the toothpaste on the brush—it's what you use to actually clean your teeth, and the floss goes between your teeth getting to debris your brush cannot."

"Hm, yeah, I think I understand it now!" Ron said, smiling at Hermione's parents. It was a good thing they didn't know one of his fake smiles from the real ones, but Hermione certainly did. "Thanks, Mr. and Mrs. Granger! It'll be bloody useful, I think!"

"Ronald Bilius Weasley, come here, please," Hermione said, gesturing for him to follow her outside.

"Where are you going, Hermione?" her father asked.

"Oh, just to show him the decorations, Daddy," she smiled in that sickly way only Ron comprehended from their years at Hogwarts.

The two walked in silence until they got to the side of the house.

"Ron, I know you aren't going to use the things, but you could at least act more realistically happy!" she whispered, afraid her parents might still be listening from an upstairs window.

"'Mione—"

"Don't you 'Mione me right now, Ronald!"

"Okay, Hermione. They didn't notice a thing, and anyway, I am going to use them. Use them by giving them to my dad for him to take apart and inspect. Isn't that a good way to use them?"

"Yeah, _sure_. Turn them into a gift for your dad so you don't have to buy him anything," Hermione huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"That's not what I mean, Hermione! I've already got him a Muggle...er, cell phone to examine. It's not to get out of buying him a present..." he said, looking down at the ground.

"You...you got him a cell phone, Ronald?" Hermione whispered, a wet gleam in her chocolate brown eyes.

"Er, yeah?"

"Oh, Ron, you bloody twat!" she cried out, enveloping him in a tight hug. "That's wonderful, but dear Merlin, your Mum is going to have to pry it from his dead, cold hands to get him to go to the Ministry for work!"

"Haha, that bad, eh?" Ron muttered, dropping the Grangers' gift from his hold as he embraced Hermione back. He would definitely have to get used to these strange occurrences at Christmas with the Grangers. It was beginning to strangely resemble the flurry of emotions at the Burrow.


End file.
